


Lose Some, Win Some

by Lliyk



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang Is A Giant Flirt And Zuko Couldn’t Be Happier, Aged-Up Character(s), Ambassador Toph (Avatar), Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, Canon Compliant, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Fire Lord Zuko, Floor Sex, Fluff and Smut, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inappropriate Use of Bending (Avatar), Inspired by Art, Kissing, M/M, Ok I lied, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Some Plot, Sparring, Switching, Table Sex, prompted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28998912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lliyk/pseuds/Lliyk
Summary: Two can play that game...“Oh no,” Aang’s laughter tapers off into raspy giggles. “I’m not letting you catch me again.”Zuko stops short, the competitive fire that still sings loudly in his veins turning into the cadence of a familiar, sultry song at Aang’s choice in words.“I don’t have to catch you, Aang.” He answers quietly as he turns purposefully on his heel. “You already belong to me.”
Relationships: Aang/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 99





	Lose Some, Win Some

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheWritersCottage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWritersCottage/gifts).



> “short” and “v hawt.” what is short??????? honestly idk her
> 
> [by mik](https://mikhailasart.tumblr.com/post/640634640224436224/just-a-sketchy-little-piece-of-zuko-and-aang); for mik. bc duh ♡.

* * *

Cicada-flies sing loudly in the late summer day. Heat waves curl up from the smooth graystone of the courtyard, adding to the heavy humidity that hangs about the Fire Nation’s air. Monsoon season sits just around the corner, and a thicket of distant storm clouds briefly block out the early evening sun.

“You’re getting better at that.” Aang makes the remark as he narrowly avoids the arc of pale fire that Zuko aims for his throat, but the follow up blow connects, and he dances away with a sharp hiss. 

“Hit!” Their quartermaster bellows from the steps. “Point: Fire Lord.”

“Hm.” Aang raises his hands, refortifying his stance. “You’re getting better at _that_ , too.”

Zuko raises his brow, blinking away the sweat that falls over his lashes at the action. He shifts his weight, bringing one fist tight to his hip and the other hand carefully outward, palm up. “Better at what?” He asks, sucking in a deep breath. A single exhale, and the pale fire coating his outstretched fingers flares into a large, crackling flame. 

“Slipping past my defense,” Aang mutters. His gaze narrows. “and distracting me.”

Zuko lets out a low chuckle, his gaze raking up Aang’s nearly bare figure unabashedly as they begin to circle one another. Unlike himself, Aang lost his tunic hours ago. Zuko can’t count how many times he’s tracked beads of sweat down the sharp v of his hips, or nearly cost himself the match by daydreaming of what it’d be like to quench his growing thirst with inked lines of sky-blue instead of Katara’s waiting iced water.

“It’s not my fault that you left yourself open.” Zuko rumbles. “Besides. If anyone’s a distraction then it’s definitely _you_ , O Wise Avatar.”

 _“Me?”_ Aang’s tone drips with false innocence, his eyes widening just as. He flips back and blasts a large jet of fire from between his palms, shouting over the blaze. “I’d never distract anyone!”

Zuko’s retort dies on his tongue as he meets the blast head on, cutting directly through the middle of it with borrowed steps from the Dance of Dragons. Aang’s fire gathers around him as if it were his own, but Aang pushes more at him still. In a split change of tactic Zuko releases the fire from his hold with an enormous _woosh_ and holds his hands out as he runs.

“Hey!” Aang protests as Zuko’s palms press flat against his own. The fire ceases. Zuko’s hands warm, and he grins with mischief, daring to entrelace their fingers as surges up until they’re eye to eye.

His grin grows wider. “Hey yourself.”

To his eternal delight, a blush dusts across Aang’s nose. He tugs, stepping back, but Zuko holds fast and happily eats up the distance. This close he misses nothing, and his grin turns into a smirk when Aang’s lips part for a sharp inhale. 

“Got you now,” Zuko purrs, following Aang blindly.

Aang suddenly spins them, gray eyes going dark. “Zuko...”

A loud sigh sounds from their sole observer. 

“ _Ugh_. If you’re going to start kissing—”

 _“Toph.”_ Zuko pulls away and lets out a long suffering groan in contrast to Aang’s immediate laughter. “For the love of—”

“—then _I’m_ calling the match because I’d rather fly Appa myself than see _that_ with my feet. Twinkle Toes, you win. Better luck next time Sparky.”

Aang’s face splits into a wide smile. Zuko sputters, dropping his hands from Aang’s as he gestures wildly in protest.

“Wait! What?” He glares between Aang and Toph, one starting a happy dance and the other moving to take their leave. “But — but I had the last hit!”

“Yeah,” Toph drawls. “but you _also_ let Twinkle Toes lead you straight out of the ring. Talk about being distracted.”

Blanching, Zuko’s gaze falls to his feet. Sure enough, he is standing on the outside of the wide rectangle that Aang had carved into the ground weeks ago. More protests pile on his tongue but when he looks up Toph is already gone. Aang stands in her place now, grinning like a fool and waving his fingers as if to prove Toph’s point.

Zuko blinks at the empty spot next to him, a playful scowl pulling at his mouth as he starts to march his way toward the steps. “You little—” he growls, picking up speed. “that is the _last_ time you’ve tricked me today.”

Aang throws his head back and laughs — “But you _love_ my tricks,” and yes, yes he _does_ — the sound making Zuko’s mouth quirk upwardward in response, but it quickly reforms into a scowl when he reaches the top of the steps and Aang spins out of reach.

“Oh no,” Aang’s laughter tapers off into raspy giggles. “I’m not letting you catch me again.”

Zuko stops short, the competitive fire that still sings loudly in his veins turning into the cadence of a familiar, sultry song at Aang’s choice in words.

Alright then.

Two can play _that_ game...

“I don’t have to catch you, Aang.” Zuko answers quietly as he turns purposefully on his heel. “You already belong to me.”

A beat of silence weighs in the atmosphere. Zuko turns his mind elsewhere as he struts down the hall, allowing himself to frown as he finally takes notice of what a complete mess he is in light of his lost spar. His dark sleeveless tunic sticks to his back with drying sweat, the gold trim fraying where it met fire. Streaks of dirt litter his pants and mud cakes the soles of his boots. Thick strands of his fringe have fallen free from his topknot to stick to his temples, and Zuko finds himself glad that he did not remember to wear his crown. Aang had parsed through katas of every element but his own, and surely he would’ve lost that too if Aang had managed to switch to airbending—

Just as he begins to round the corner of the outer palace hall, he feels fingers snag the back of his high collar. In a blur, and a gust of wind, Zuko is spun around.

It takes everything in him not to grin in triumph.

“Zuko,” Aang crowds him against a wall. “no fair!” 

_All is fair in love and war,_ Zuko wants to say, but he is busy — far, _far_ too busy — sighing against Aang’s mouth. Aang lets out a ragged, throaty sound that only serves to fuel Zuko even more, and in an instant he has their positions flipped, Aang’s back slamming against the wall as Zuko’s knee expertly fits between his thighs.

“ _Got you_ ,” he says again. Aang’s hands fist in the front of his tunic, frantic as they move to pluck at the buttons closing his collar.

“ _Zuko._ ” Aang moans as he cants his hips forward, and Zuko shudders at the sound; the sensation; never ever tired of hearing his name fall out of Aang’s mouth and never, _ever_ tired of feeling that telling hardness pressing against him. _“No fair.”_

Point: Fire Lord.

Zuko drops his mouth to Aang’s neck and licks a single hot stripe over his adam's apple before dipping his tongue against the hollow of his throat. Aang’s fingers curl tightly in the hair at his nape, and Zuko nips sharply at his bare shoulder in retaliation. 

“What do you mean? _You’re_ the one who won the final round...” Zuko’s voice lowers an octave, deepened from the cocktail of desire and fire that scatters sharply through the pit of his gut. “Unless you want a rematch?”

Aang lets out a breathy chuckle. “I don’t think Toph is—”

 _“No Toph.”_ Zuko corrects hotly, hands fitting to Aang’s hips. “Just me and you.”

“You’re on.”

“Yeah,” Zuko rutts his hardened length pointedly against Aang’s leg, grins feral at the needy little sound it awards him. “yeah, I _am_.”

A billow of wind has him hastily finding his balance, arms shooting outward to steady himself as he is sent reeling backwards. The second before he falls a blue-inked hand snatches him by the belt loops. Zuko flicks his gaze up as he steadies; feels his heart hammer as he meets Aang’s smoldering charcoal stare.

Aang starts down the hall, grip resolute as he turns. “ _This_ way, Sifu Hotman...” he demands lowly. 

Zuko is all too eager to follow him cock first. Not even the blatantly incredulous looks of his posted guards deter the swelling heat he feels growing within him.

Point: Avatar. 

Zuko admits it happily.

The room they stumble into is empty, blessedly. In seconds Zuko finds himself stripped from his tunic, and he captures Aang’s mouth in another searing kiss as he backs him toward the nearest surface.

Aang’s hand curls around the column of his neck, the other tracing patterns up the slope of his shoulder. Zuko trails his touch up his corded frame, indulging in the places that he’d watched sweat trickle down from. Gooseflesh raises in his wake, and a pleased hum vibrates out of him as Aang melds their fronts together.

“ _Off_ ,” Aang tugs at the hem of his pants. “Zuko. Take them off.”

Zuko catches Aang’s wrist and wonders if perhaps he should slow them down a bit; at least give Aang a chance to stop and breathe while Zuko goes about breaking him down. It might have started as a game but the bright warmth of adoration that sits heavily his his heart will always remind him to be careful where Aang is concerned.

The decision is taken from him. With a lilting growl of frustration Aang breaks from his hold and strips impatiently from the last of his own clothes. Zuko’s mouth dries, and he presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth at the sight of Aang now standing bare before him. 

Greedily, Zuko drinks in Aang’s visage. Every dip and curve of sinewy muscle that he hadn’t been allowed to run his hands over during their spar. Every nick and cut across his pale tan skin, every little bruise left in Zuko’s wake. In response he feels his restraint, wound tight since Aang had ditched his shirt out in the yard, give and crumble away in a matter of moments.

Aang stalks forward, cock tall and proud and just begging for Zuko’s mouth.

“Nope,” Aang stops his train of thought with a knowing smirk and a shake of his head. “pants first.”

Heat rolls off Zuko in waves. He grumbles, but he is twice as quick to concede and kick off his boots. Zuko doesn’t realize that he’s been tricked — _again_ — until Aang is pulling him to the nearest surface by wrapping his mouth around his fingers and sinking his lips down to his knuckle.

Zuko groans at the wet feeling as he shucks his pants. “Oh, fuck.”

“Mhm,” Aang hums his agreement, tongue curling purposefully around Zuko’s digits before releasing with an obscene _pop!_ “you read my mind.”

Together they bump into a table. A vase jostles dangerously towards the edge but Zuko is too focused on hoisting Aang on to the table’s lip and sinking a finger into his entrance to even pretend to care. Aang falls back with a shuddering sigh that stirs nearby curtains. Another groan rumbles out of Zuko as he fits himself between Aang’s knees; his walls part for him almost easily around his finger, pliant just enough from their tryst during dawn.

Aang mutters a curse when he adds a second, but the swears start to echo loudly when Zuko drops to his knees where he stands and promptly slips his tongue between his scissoring fingers.

“ _Shi_ — _Spirits_ , Zuko.”

Zuko chuckles as he licks sloppily. _Point: Fire Lord._

“ _Enough_.” Aang threads his fingers through his hair and tugs him upward. The image of him sears into Zuko’s mind; kiss-swollen and one touch shy of begging instead of demanding. “Cock.” Aang whines desperately. “In me. Now.”

Agni. Even when he’s about to be fucked within an inch of his life he manages to bend Zuko to his will — not that Zuko has any intent to deny him.

Gripping his cock at the base, Zuko lines himself up with Aang’s spit-slick entrance and lets out a broken growl as he slowly sinks himself to the hilt. He watches keenly from under his lashes as Aang screws his eyes shut and grips the edge of the table. Zuko leans over him with a sharp breath, endlessly enraptured with the feeling of Aang underneath him and around him. He stills as his palms flatten on the table’s quickly warming lacquered surface, counting the seconds; waiting, waiting...

When those blown gray eyes finally lock with his, Zuko says only one thing before capturing his mouth and kissing him dizzy.

“You win.”

With his concession Zuko grips Aang’s knees and spreads them wider, bends them just far enough for him to fit flush; so that he can slide his hands up Aang’s body and cup them securely under his jaw and _hold_. A visible shiver runs through Aang at the intimate proximity — at the pause Zuko takes look him in the eye — and Zuko sinks his teeth into his bottom lip in the same moment that he slides his cock out. They let out dual pitches of pleasure, an impossible electric current igniting sharply between them.

The table sways on it’s legs with every thrust, scraping minutely against the rug-covered stone floors when Zuko begins to fuck into Aang with steady, easy abandon. Aang breaks their kiss with a surprised, raspy mewl at the pace, his grip flexing tightly over Zuko’s shoulders. 

“ _Oh_ — _fuck_ , Zuko.”

The haggardly whispered praise sends a burning need sizzling up his spine. Zuko hazily meets Aang’s eyes and then very decidedly tugs his mouth into the most irritatingly sexy smirk that he _knows_ will earn him the battle he really wants.

“Yes, Avatar?”

The reaction is perfect and instant; Aang bucks his hips in immediate defiance. The table gives a warning groan, and Zuko finds himself echoing the suffering sound as Aang’s hot walls clench around him. Still, he retaliates at the retaliation, drilling his cock into Aang with deliberate, sinuous thrusts of his hips so that the sound of skin slapping skin echoes throughout the now stuffy room.

Minute laughter bubbles out of Zuko at their continued little spat, but it is swiftly interrupted by the sudden rain of pain-pleasure pinpricks that travel down the center of his back. The next buck of Aang’s hips is as targeted of his own thrust; accompanied by a firm shove at his shoulder. In the next second he stumbles, tripping backwards from the table — from _Aang_ , and, _gods_ , the _rapid lack_ _of his pliant, wet warmth_ — and falling square on his ass. 

With a very decidedly unsexy yelp, Zuko lands on the skewed floor rug much safer than expected. He knows right then and there that the stone underfoot was moved and softened with bending, and he snaps his gaze to seek out Aang in askance.

But he is there — already there, sinking to his knees around Zuko’s hips with stormy gray eyes, one tattooed hand reaching for Zuko’s slick cock. As Aang’s waiting wet heat expertly settles over him, Zuko’s mind pulls blanks, leaving nothing but the thought of what exactly is about to happen. 

_Aang is going to ride him._

In hindsight Zuko accepts that there is actually little preamble between the loss of Aang and the gain of him, and _Angi_ , he is grateful. Aang braces one hand tightly within the remnants of Zuko’s topknot, the other on Zuko’s shoulder. His mouth parts in a lewd moan as he fucks himself on Zuko’s cock, and the sound shoots through Zuko like tiny sparks of ligtning.

Spots of infinite color dance across his vision, but even though the bliss-tinted gaze he keeps his eyes locked on to the purest vision of all.

_Gods. “Aang...”_

“Oh,” a throaty chuckle. “don’t go saying my name _now._ ”

With a shudder, his lien on control dissolves under Aang’s command. Zuko lets out a weak, needy moan as Aang flexes his grip on his hair; at the uptick of his pace and the heavy rise and fall of his hips.

“Gonna play fair?” Aang asks, breathless as he sinks down.

 _“Never — mm,”_ Zuko’s fucks upward, unbidden, as he is rewarded with another sharp tug for his petulance. He watches Aang’s reddened cock bob and leak pre-cum down the underside, mouth watering at the beautifully arousing sight. But he hasn’t been asked to touch thus far, so he snakes his arms around Aang’s waist and kisses up his sternum instead because fuck _, fuck,_ he is actually going to cum too quickly if Aang keeps that pace. “Never _mind_ ,” Zuko corrects. “I lied. I _lied_ — sweetheart you feel _amazing_. Amazing. _Amazing—_ ”

Aang’s breathy laughter is as sweet as him; as sweet as his walls clenching tightly over the head of his cock. Instant affection blooms through Zuko at the sound, triggering a white-hot wash of raw, crescendoing pleasure. He is close, so close, and greedy — _so_ fucking greedy _—_ for everything that is Aang. 

“— _uck, Aang. Agni, sunshine—”_ Zuko drops a hand to the floor and starts to fuck upward selfishly; nastily, and perfectly, as he meets the lowering of Aang’s hips with the buck of his own. “ _You win,_ ” Zuko tells Aang as he stills on shaky limbs and lets himself be fucked. 

“ _There_ , Zuko—” Aang lets out a loud moan, his thighs beginning to tremble. “Please, _right_ there.”

Zuko can’t help it, the sound of Aang’s plea makes him steal the reins of control. In a breath, two, he is rolling them over and fitting Aang’s knees over his shoulders, bending him in half so that he can pound into him with hard, wild thrusts. Aang lets out a string of curses that follow the cry of his name. Zuko surges up, still never tired of the sound, and slants his mouth over Aang’s in a bruising, dominating kiss that has them both whimpering as Zuko’s hips stutter.

“Touch me,” Aang gasps against his lips. “ _touch me_ , Zuko. Touch me, touch me, _touch_ me.”

Zuko cuts him off with another dirty opened mouthed kiss, their breaths mingling as, obediently, Zuko braces himself before he reaches to circle the tip Aang’s cock between thumb and forefinger; just enough pressure to leave him wanting. A choked beg stumbles out of Aang’s mouth, and Zuko gives his cock a firm pump, a light squeeze and a flick of wrist in time with his thrusts.

The needy groan that rents the heated air between them goes straight to Zuko’s loins. Aang walls give a telling flutter around him, sending new spots of blinding color to dance across the peripheral of his vision at the impossible feeling.

“Fuck,” Zuko’s gasp sounds loudly over Aang’s, “ _fuck_. Fuck. _Aang_. I—” and he hits release before he even finishes the warning, his frame shivering and his eyes rendered blind as he slows with a strained moan; even as he refuses to stop his hips. Under him Aang begs, and Zuko spends the last of his energy slamming into him with calculated precision; palming at his swollen length and firmly running his touch along the underside of Aang’s shaft; thumbing away pre-cum and smearing it under the ridge of the head.

Aang shouts. “Zuko! _Zuko._ Zuko, I _wanna—”_

“Cum for me,” Zuko growls, ragged and over sensitive and still just so _greedy_ as he flexes his grip just so around Aang’s cock. “Yeah, I _know_ you do. C’mon then, Aang. Let me see you. Let me _hear_ you—”

The telling hitch of Aang’s breath; the light tremble in the stone floor and the flutter of curtains; sends aftershocks of a primal pleasure in Zuko. In seconds Aang is arching away from the floor and cumming into Zuko’s fist, his cry high and breathless as his thighs shake uncontrollably at Zuko’s sides. Zuko stills with a broken groan, eyes fluttering shut and a lump forming in his throat as Aang convulses around his sensitive length.

Humid heat clogs the atmosphere, steamy and sticky. Sweat beads Zuko’s brow as he leans carefully over his lover to capture his mouth in a firm kiss, a mild distraction that they both moan into as Zuko uses the moment to drag his cock out of Aang, only to settle his weight carefully into their position. With a possessive tilt of his chin Aang meets Zuko’s mouth in another searing kiss. For the longest of moments after they are all teeth and little tongue, their breathing heavy and deep as they fall from their cotial high.

Aang bats at Zuko’s shoulder, whining quietly, amusedly, at still being bent in half. Zuko lets out an airy, aimless laugh as he carefully extracts himself from Aang and helps him carefully lower his legs.

Stormy gray eyes, quickly glazing in bliss, watch him from under thick lashes as he carefully rises from his knees to retrieve their clothes.

“Something wrong, Avatar?” Zuko rumbles thickly as he plucks Aang’s pants from where they landed on the high corner of a cherrywood armoire. Aang sends a playful shove of air at him, the cool breeze ruffling his already wayward fringe and allowing him short reprieve from the sex-thick atmosphere.

“I was just thinking that you’re right,” Aang says serenely from his continued sprawl on the carpet. “I _did_ win.”

Zuko raises his brow as he slips into his own trousers; makes the mistake of looking over. Hot affection blooms through him, even as he nearly trips and falls and cracks his head on the cold stone floor. _You couldn’t be more wrong_ , he wants to say when he takes in blushing cheeks, reddened kiss-swollen lips, and heavenly contours of lean, attractive muscle. His throat works aimlessly as heat stirs in him again. He nears Aang predatorily. Even after sex Aang looks as graceful as ever. Well fucked and sitting pretty, and Zuko is the one that made it so.

Aang really, _really_ couldn’t be more wrong.

Zuko thinks it just as he sinks back to his knees as starts a trail of scorching kisses up Aang’s navel, breathing the tiniest licks of fire above his skin. Aang shudders terribly; needy, hungrily; underneath him at the careful act. “Zuko. _Zuko_ ,” he moans, and Zuko does not resist the flashing, renewed desire that the reverent utterance of his name brings him. 

“ _Oh_ — _Zuko...”_

Zuko grins into a line of sky-blue. 

Point: Fire Lord.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> you can find more of mik’s amazing work [here on her tumblr](https://mikhailasart.tumblr.com/).
> 
>   
>   
> ~~beware typos~~ finally edited! pls wish me sleep lmao  
>   
> 


End file.
